The Story in the Song
by Biotite
Summary: A series of non-connected oneshots. Varying degrees of AU. Very varying degrees of seriousness. Newest installment contains a visit by the auror academy, an anecdote or two about Moody, and students stressed out by exams. I feel their pain.
1. Hogwarts Prison Blues

A/N: Got this idea earlier today, and wrote this in a couple of hours. It's based on Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" (hence the title). The story makes more sense (or might just be a bit more entertaining) if you hear the song and read the lyrics first. It's incorporated heavily!

Positive and/or constructive reviews are highly appreciated.

... And yes, Draco is a bit of a dramatic brat ;)

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He watched the big, scarlet train as it rolled around the bend and out of sight. It was completely dark, but not cold, even this far north. Draco didn't mind the dark. You quickly became closely acquainted with darkness as a servant of the Dark Lord. Yeah, the name was kind of a giveaway. At least if you had enough intelligence to command language at all. You know, produce sentences by combining words, perhaps even with an ounce of grammar. Still, Draco had seen a handful of wannabes perish by the Dark Lord's irritation at their irrational fear of the dark, even though he wasn't formally a Death Eater yet. That was just a matter of time, though. It was in his blood. Thankfully, he didn't have any such issues with light or the lack thereof. He was a predator, not prey, and so he liked the dark. It gave him advantages. It was easy to hide when there was no light to expose you, either from enemies hunting you, or waiting for pray to walk right into a trap. He had been trained in this since before he could remember, and on certain training exercises he had felt as though he hadn't seen the sunshine since Merlin knows when.

He sighed as he realized that the train had passed completely out of sight. He couldn't even see the steam from the engine on the starry backdrop. He turned around and faced the road to the castle glittering in the dark. Hogwarts. His prison. He was stuck there, and time was going to keep dragging on until Christmas, when he could hopefully return home. His mind absently wandered to the train that was just going to keep rolling back to London. Without Draco. He clamped down on his self-pity and began the trek to the looming building, thestral-drawn carriages long gone.

When he was very young, his mother had once hoped for a different future, he vaguely remembered. She had told him to be a good boy, to behave like a proper gentlewizard, and once she had even scolded him severely when he had wondered about the killing curse. That all seemed to be something from a different world, some kind of alternate universe. If one were to believe in that sort of thing.

This summer, Draco had travelled with the Dark Lord and a few of his Death Eaters to Renhold in the eastern part of England. The upcoming event was part of the tests that everyone had to go through to become a Death Eater. He didn't know what to expect, even his father would tell him nothing, although Draco saw some unrecognizable feeling briefly flutter across his father's face when he asked him what was going to happen. "_I can't tell you. Do not ask again!" _has been the unusually short and angry answer to the question. Draco knew better than to keep prodding his father, when that was the immediate attitude his queries were met with.

Shortly after their arrival in the small town, he had been taken to a small house. It was dark out, but the lights in cottage were on and it looked cozy. He smelled cooking, and heard laughter. A creeping, uncomfortable suspicion started to pry itself into Draco's thoughts as he looked over the white, waist-high fence. He felt a hand on his left shoulder. He instantly turned towards the hand's owner, and looked into the glowing red eyes of the Dark Lord. "In there lives a man. He is not important, but he must be killed. That is your task. But only him, and others shall not see you. It has to be done by dawn. It is the will of Lord Voldemort." Draco couldn't look away and his mouth felt dry as Sahara. "Do you understand, little Malfoy?" The Dark Lord said in a tone that was almost mocking. Most of all it was frigid. Those cruel eyes locked onto his. "Y- yes, my Lord," Draco stuttered out.

"Good," was the only answer. The Dark Lord made a motion with his hand, and all the wizards apparated away.

Draco watched his breath in the night air for a few stunned moments and felt the lingering cold on his shoulder, where the icy hand of his… _Master_, he supposed, had been a short while earlier. He didn't know how long he stood there for, but when he snapped out of it he silently jumped the fence and slipped into the shadows of an apple tree. He had to kill a man. Take a life.

He had, of course, envisioned this plenty of times. Even bragged about it to some of his fellow Slytherins. That was easy enough to do. However, it suddenly seemed a lot more _real_ than it ever had before. And not as badass as in the stories he realized, as he saw a middle-aged man through the window.

He tore his gaze away from the house, squatted down and breathed out hard through his teeth. _Don't get personal_. That was the first rule. It would only make it harder if he did. He stared angrily at a straw of grass. He had to kill this man, best not overthink it. If he did he might be unable to carry through, and if he didn't carry through, _he_ would die. Possibly, hell, _probably_ his family, too, he bitterly thought, as he heard a door open. Laughter and happy chatter spilled out into the night. He looked up and saw the man walking towards the street, a plastic bag in his hand. Draco gritted his teeth, _it's now or never_ he thought, as he agilely sprang to his feet and jumped over the white fence, avoiding to get within eyesight of the open door. He kept his gaze down as he positioned himself within easy range. Deep breath. This man had to die. He had to. That was just the way it was. "_AVADA KADAVRA!"_ he heard a shrill voice yell. _What the..?_ He looked around for the shrill-voiced person who had done the job for him, and only observed his wand stretched out of him. He then noticed, that every part of his body felt heavy as lead, and that the man was splayed out on the pavement in front of Draco. The man's brown eyes were still open displaying a certain amount of surprise. His shortish light brown but graying hair was slightly tousled, but his dominating feature was his complete, utter lack of life. Thanks to Draco. He had caused this. It was all his fault.

The next thing he remembered was sitting in Malfoy Manor, inner circle and the Dark Lord all toasting and congratulating him on his first kill. Well, the Dark Lord might not have been congratulating Draco, but he weren't torturing him either, which was close enough.

Then, he had felt numb. It had, of course, all come to him later. All the feelings. The pain and guilt. He had killed a man. Not for any particular reason. Just to watch him die. Because that was what the Dark Lord wanted.

He realized he had stopped moving. He hadn't even gone all that far up the trail before his feet had stopped all by themselves. He thought he heard a whistle blowing, maybe it was train. Maybe not. He felt tears on his cheeks, and was shocked that he had been so lost in thought. He squared his shoulders and held his head high as the Malfoy he was. He pointed his wand at his face and quickly murmured a spell that removed all traces of tears and crying. Malfoys didn't cry. Especially the men. Then he put one foot in front of the other and continued his trek to the castle.

He wasn't sure if he'd missed the feast. He'd prefer to be in one of the Manors anyway. All the purebloods out of Hogwarts were probably eating their dinners in a more respectable style than the school's "all-you-can-stuff-in-your-face" style. He had seen the way Ron Weasley acted around food. Draco was not at all convinced that the redheaded boy truly was a pureblood. He was a disgrace. It disgusted Draco that even bloodtraitors didn't raise their children with better manners.

If it was past dinner, maybe they were having coffee or whiskey at home, Father smoking a cigar. Thankfully, that_ was_ obtainable in Slytherin. Draco could use a whiskey right about now. Preferably a double. Well, it wasn't as though his trip back to Hogwarts was a surprise. He had done this year after year since he turned 11, and he did know he had to go back, even though he had tried to reason with Father. There really wasn't any reason for him to go back to school. The future was with the Dark Lord, after all. His father had insisted however, and Draco had been given a task that made his position at Hogwarts practical. He still wished he was in better accommodations with better people. No squibs, no bloodtraitors and no mudbloods. Other people had that, and he both could and should have it, and that was what tortured him.

Well, if they freed him from this prison – just get Severus to do the job! – that train would be his. He would take it back to London. Far away from Hogwarts. Away from his prison. That was where he wanted to stay.

He'd sit in a comfortable compartment, in comfortable silence, enjoy the view, and just let that whistle blow his blues away…


	2. Too Sexy

A/N: Pure fluff, and a bit of a spoof! You all know "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred. Keep this one in mind. And also that I'm poking a bit fun at a certain pairing. It's a little suggestive ;) Enjoy!

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_Hermione felt a little off. She had a vague feeling that something was not quite right, but put the thought away_ as she gazed across the table. She was at the most adorable little café in Milan with the most stunningly handsome wizard in the world. Quite frankly, he was not just handsome he was, well, _sexy_. She knew, from a rare vulnerable moment, that he knew this, and that he was afraid this would lead to love leaving him. She had purred when he said this and told him that he wasn't too sexy for love, but definitely too sexy for his shirt. "So sexy it hurts," was her exact wording.

_Wait… What?_ _That didn't sound like something she normally said, if ever. She pushed the little voice away again._

They finished their bottle of wine, and he cast a bored look around him. He was too sexy for Milan, that was for sure. It was the same as in New York and Japan. And that time they had gone to that party. They had to leave when the disco music started. The lights had reflected beautifully in his dark hair, mesmerizing her, but there was "no way I'm disco dancing," as he said and looked her in the eye. She had better ideas for how they could spend their time either way…

_Dark hair? Her world blurred a bit._

They were now in a large room. Plenty of floor space, decorated in a classy manner. She sat in a comfortable chair, as he paced. He looked deceptively muggle in his black trousers and gray t-shirt. He should take off his cloak more often. It hid his long legs and firm bum, although it made her appreciate those aspects even more, considering how rare a sight they were. He strode up and down the floor, as if it were a catwalk, obviously agitated about something. She didn't hear the words but merely let that velvety voice roll over her and embrace her entire being, while she admired that little move of his on their private catwalk. She especially loved his little turns, that way he tossed his long, smooth hair and sometimes cast a fierce glance was just… delicious. She absently wondered if he shaked his little tushy like that on purpose. Either way she loved it. He was just too sexy.

_What was going on? She loved it, but this was __not_ _normal. She hadn't ingested anything given to her by the Weasley twins, had she?_

She sighed contentedly. He was too sexy. Too sexy to be this upset, so she decided to interrupt that marvellous voice even though it had a certain impact on not just her mind, but also her body. "Darling, you're too sexy, you know that. I must admit I love that way you're like a model, you know what I mean? When you do that little turn," she ignored his glare, it was frankly more sexy than intimidating to her "and shake your little tushy on the catwalk."

_She must be high or something…_

His glare turned into something she'd wager few people had seen in those immensely dark eyes. There was a certain and definite playfulness in them. "For you, I am a model," he turned "yeah, I do my little turn on the catwalk. I shake my little tushy on the catwalk," and so he did before turned again with a flick of his raven hair and started walking slowly towards her.  
"One more thing…" Hermione gulped with anticipation, "I'm too sexy too sexy for my cat." He was only a few feet away and closing in. He lowered his voice, and she could feel the reverberations vibrate through her body "poor pussy cat…" He was directly in front of her now, "I'm too sexy, love's going to leave me."  
"No," she just mouthed, she seemed to have lost her ability to say anything. He lowered his face towards hers as she looked up on him. While he closed the remaining space between them Severus Snape whispered seductively; "and I'm too sexy for this –"

"_-DREAM!" Hermione almost screamed as she sat up and frantically looked around her. She was in her bed, alone, and thanked whichever deities listening, that she put a silencing spell around her bed years ago. She silently vowed to never tell anyone about the dream, and laid down again wondering how she was going to look Professor Snape in the eye in the morning…_

* * *

A/N:If you do not know the song and at least one of the hilarious youtube-videoes featuring it accompanied by clips Alan Rickman as Severus Snape - get going! It's not even three precious minutes long. And good fun.

Reviews are appreciated. Flames are not. I do like a bunch of HGSS-stories, but they are highly AU and Hermione and/or Severus are often very OOC, entertaining or not. Couldn't help poking a bit of fun at both the pairing and the song.


	3. Auror Apprentices

Trying not to drown in my own exams right now. For some reason I decided to spend some time writing this. It's spring at Hogwarts, and the students are feeling my pain ;) The auror academy is fishing for new recruits. Inspired partially by Teenagers by My Chemical Romance.

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It was spring at Hogwarts. Spring meant that OWLs, NEWTs and the end of another school year was near. It meant career counseling and the majority of the 5th, 6th and 7th year students panicking about the future. Today the auror academy had rounded up a handful of their apprentices and fully trained aurors to hopefully recruit the best that Hogwarts had to offer. They were mingling with the upper years in the Great Hall.

One proof of the stress that spring brought to Hogwarts was outside the Great Hall. A 5th year Hufflepuff had conjured what looked like a muggle beer crate and was shouting about doom being near to everybody that would listen – and everybody who wouldn't, as well – she shook a well-manicured finger in the face of Luna Lovegood and told the blond girl to stay away; "run, Luna! Run as fast as you can. They'll change you! They're all robots. Or aliens! Nargleinfested, maybe. They're gonna clean up your looks, as they said," she let out a maniacal laugh before drawing breath. She lowered her voice and beckoned the younger girl closer "they lie, they cheat, they do whatever they have to. Whatever it takes to make a citizen out of you!" Luna cocked her head a bit to the side, while a few onlookers looked like they weren't sure of whether they should laugh, cry or go get help. The Hufflepuff girl was acting loonier than Looney.

The Hufflepuff looked around her with a paranoid look and just when she opened her mouth to continue her warnings, she spotted something and stiffened. She closed her mouth, and then quickly opened it again letting out a shriek like a banshee. She jumped to the floor and directed her finger at Professor McGonagall who had just entered the hall. "NO! They won't get me! Never! NEVER!" The 'puff started backing away, staring intently at the deputy headmistress who suddenly looked very tired. "You'll never catch me alive!" was the last thing stated before the 5th year turned around running like hell out of the castle. A scream could be heard trailing off.

"Move along," Professor McGonagall said in her usual strict manner, her mouth a thin line. As the group hurriedly scurried towards the Great Hall some of them heard something like a sigh and the words "_every. Damn. Year,_" muttered in a low voice, before the professor headed out the main doors.

Inside the Great Hall a podium had been set up, and a first year apprentice was doing a speech about the admittance course. "So, the admittance course in August is pretty demanding. We were 80 when we started, but only 30 made it through. The aurors sleep with their wands, well, we all do, really. Constant vigilance and all," he shot a nervous glance to the side, where a senior auror was standing. "Well, you're basically watched 24/7 for the first month, they see and hear almost everything. Some of them even run around with the little, infuriating notepads in which they scribble relentlessly. It's worse than being to a shrink, man!" Another nervous glance to the side. A tall wizard in auror robes seemed to radiate a smug air without really smiling, at the apprentice's nervousness.

"What's a shrink?" someone asked, to which there was a general agreeing sound from the crowd.

"Oh, it's like… A muggle mindhealer. You talk to them, and they make all these notes that you can't see. It's rather… frustrating. Anywho, for some people that pressure of the first month is just too much. You know it from the OWLs. People take all kinds of weird shit, but they almost always get busted and kicked out. This guy, Stan, a couple of years back, he had bought these little blue pills with an agility potion, so he'd become really quick and strong. That was definitely botched, because they didn't work. Well, they kind of work, but only on one body part, if you know what I mean. It was pretty embarrassing for him, and –" the same auror as before had a smirk on his face now. The apprentice looked uncertain of how to continue, but seemed to decide on keeping the juicier details to himself. Or at least getting out of his current predicament as being the center of attention as fast as possible.

"So what I mean is, don't try to cheat. They know the tricks and have their methods. They'll rip your aspirations to shreds if do anything like that. It's like a machine, man. So… uhm. It's a terrific training program, even if it _is_ kind of crazy. I've learned tons, and every day has new challenges. We've also got our own quidditch team. We beat the shit out of the trainees over at St. Mungos last week," now both he and the auror looked positively self-satisfied. "So if you're good at quidditch, you especially should apply. We've got a great team, and room for more players. Go Cerberi!" He cheered enthusiastically and left the stage. He was immediately ushered back to answer questions.

Professor McGonagall looked as if she wasn't completely convinced that the best selling point of an education was quidditch. On the other hand she _did_ approve mightily of quidditch.

"What's cerberi?" someone asked.

"Those are our team mascots. A Cerberus is this big, badass dog with three heads that's this really good guardian. The same way aurors guard Britain, see? Even muggles have heard of cerberi, that's how wild they are. I think gorgons were a close runner-up, those are pretty cool too. I'm sure your Care of Magical Creatures professor knows lots about them."

"Is it true that the auror corps is like a clique, I heard you give people weird names and everything, from my brother."

"Nah, who's your brother? That's not true at all. We're more like a big family. We spend so much time together, you know? Can't really afford to be too stuck up. We do, however, get a nick-name when we graduate. It can be changed if you do something that earns you the new name. You've all heard of Mad-Eye Moody, I expect? I hope you don't think his parents name him that at birth." He chuckled a bit. A surprisingly large number of students looked surprised or thoughtful. They'd never considered that.

"We stick up for each other. Trouble and hurt, big as well as small, we help each other out. Don't mess with an auror," he ended in a more serious tone.

"How good exactly, is your quidditch team?" someone wanted to know. And so on. People asked questions for a while until the immediate curiosity was sated.

Professor McGonagall took the stage "and with that we'll end the presentations from the auror corps. Next week several representatives from the Ministry of Magic will visit. Thank you all for coming." With a flourish of her wand the podium disappeared, and she went to talk to the auror in command. The students filed out chatting rather excitedly.

"So, it looks like being an auror still suits you, David," she said.

"Yes, thank you Professor, I mean, Minerva."

She smirked. It was always amusing how hard students could find it to start calling their former professors by their first names.

"Taking over after Moody, those are pretty big shoes to fill in, but you seem to be handling it well."

"Thank you. Well, he was a twitchy fella, but one of the best, without a doubt. Is, I guess. You know, when he was here, he would always mutter about teenagers, cursing under his breath and talk about how they scared the living shit out of him. '_Rather take on a dark lord, than a teenager given the choice!'_ was what he told me once. I'm not completely certain if he meant it or not."

"Yes, he does have a certain… special sense of humour," Professor McGonagall agreed.

"I did hear that he's been heard saying almost the same about auror apprentices, though, so maybe it should be taken lightly. On the other hand, taking things lightly with Auror Moody has never exactly seen like the best plan to me," he said, grimacing, most likely in memory of something including _CONSTANT VIGILANCE! _and some kind of shock or pain.

Professor McGonagall almost smiled. "I believe he finds younger people to lack a sense of detail. I think his idea is, that it's because you don't care enough, you just want to make someone bleed. Curse first, asks questions later. You probably know this better than me, since you've been trained by him…"

The auror looked crestfallen "Oh, I know. He had some great rants every now and then. '_You just want to make someone bleed. Don't care who, where or why. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! You have to hit the right damn wizard. Not a muggle, not a bloody kneazle. If it's that filth that calls themselves Death Eaters, making them bleed is not enough. They'll get right back up and hit you in the back with a killing curse, understand?' _he actually made one of the girls cry with that one _'and don't even think about joining up with them, just because they're stronger and have nastier spells than you do. You can darken your clothes and strike a violent pose, but I'll see right through it, right down to those pink, frilly bunny panties of yours' _that one he directed at a guy '_you'll figure – ohhh, then they'll leave me alone, the evil snakemen – to hell and Merlin's saggy balls with that. I'll come after you then, and it will be a thousand times worse!'_" The auror smiled happily at the memory "Moody did have a way with those angry speeches. I think he has a count somewhere of how many he got to pass out or cry or do accidental magic each year. Most proud of the last ones, I believe." He grinned at his former professor, then froze as if in indecision of whether he could do that or not.

She gave him a small smile in return. "I suppose you can't blame him all too much for being a tad paranoid after all his been through. And when I think of some of the material he's had to make aurors out of, it might not be too far off to be a little scared."

"I think Tonks made him lose some extra hairs. But she made it through. Saw a few episodes right there, had it been anyone else, I would have laughed my pointy hat off."

"Would've been risky to do around Moody, I'd say," Professor McGonagall drily commented.

"Exactly why I didn't do it," he replied with a smile. "Well, I suppose I've got to round everybody up and get back to station. Nice talking to you Profe… Minerva."

"You too. Take care, David," she said and watched as he and his fellow aurors and trainees left the castle. People who knew her well would have recognized her expression as slightly nostalgic. The expression disappeared quickly, though – another 5th year seemed to be having some sort of meltdown.


End file.
